Long Unbeknown Poems
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Amelia she loves to chat and tells an amusing story
But dear readers BEWARE – this one’s a little gory
She worked long hours at night as a barmaid
It was a job she loved and good wages she got paid
She’d had a busy day and her pits were a little whiffy
So she had a little bath – it would only take a jiffy
So into the bath Amelia got, she sank into the bubbles
But this was only the beginning of Amelia’s troubles
Amelia did a little fart but unfortunately followed through
And in the bath was floating a little bit of poo
Amelia got out quickly and left the bath to drain
But unbeknown to her the turd it did remain
She got dressed and ready to go - she had to get her lift
To the pub she loved to work in she always enjoyed her shift
With the customers Amelia was always a big hit
She didn’t let on her secret that in the bath she’d done a little poop*
But it was a Wednesday night and a quiz was on this day
Amelia she loved this challenge and she would always play
The final question stumped many people but they wanted to be the winner
Which barmaid crapped in the bath tonight and could they name the sinner?
The one in the white t-shirt some of the customers did shout
Amelia went as red as a beetroot- she couldn’t wait to get out
But the customers they did shout and cheer
And poor Amelia had to pour them another beer
Now Amelia no longer works in the bar
She works as a receptionist – she’s really come far
She loves her new job and always likes to talk
But to stop her following through now she always wears a cork.
· I had to change this from the S*** word as I know swearing is not allowed – but the expletive does make the poem flow better.
Jan Allison
19th March 2014
~submitted for contest Take 2 Free poetry contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud ~
- Unplaced in contest 'tickle my funny bone' sponsored by Francine Roberts ~
~ Please see notes about this poem ~
Three trains
The first train was bereavement, in the cab the driver died
pulling a coach of grieving souls, unknowing yet, inside
The second train was unemployed and heading where it will
no scheduled destination and so many miles to kill
Third train was steaming in real fast, relationship express
out of control, the brakes applied but flat out, nonetheless.
Where the tracks all crossed was a signal box, manned by a crew of one
who bumbled by from day to day not knowing what was wrong.
But up there in the box he heard, and from all sides could see
the trains approach their final stop, and that last stop was me.
Bereavement got there first and there was nothing I could do
no lights nor signals made a difference, it just ploughed on through
as unemployed converged at speed and rolled on to it's side
the pair of them went in nose first as relationship arrived
the signal box was crushed beneath, it didn't stand a chance
buried in the twisted wreck of flaming circumstance.
Shock finally subsided and the smoke began to clear
just left with total darkness and no way from out of here
all the wreckage pressing down meant nowhere else to go
just curl up in a tiny ball, try not to move, get low.
So there I stayed as unbeknown their night turned into day
the sounds of all around me going on their merry way.
Many days entombed were spent, not praying for release
comfortable in misery, my loneliness my peace
until the silence broken by a piercing warning shout,
'No rescue's due, it's up to you to dig your passage out'.
From where the voice had come from I could neither hear nor see
until the realisation that the sound had come from me
skin tearing on the razor steel I slowly fought my way
and finally emerged, bathed gratefully in the light of a new day.
No fanfare, and no wild applause, no ticker tape parade
life went on, oblivious to the escape that I had made.
Since then I've built another box around me, much much stronger
and hope the time till the next train will be, Lord, much much longer.
For contest 'Get low', sponsored by Casarah Nance
In memory of that dreadful year 2002.
When vultures cast sardonic smiles on his waning soul
Rehearsed their hisses for a feast of agony and epitaph
She gripped the moment and clawed her nails into his skin
Like pikes into a lover’s cross
A wake-up call struck the mind of the silent falling ghost
Whispered like a distant ceremonial angel in spiked disguise
Lit a scented candle and disavowed her festering claws
Scars turned into lightening stars
The wounds became too loose for manicured incisions
Thus he wound free from cynical talon’s lacerations
‘Keep the coffin with broken seals and rusty hinges’
Return to sender mailer demon unbeknown
26th May 2019
... kindness a word a glance a tender embrace
regardless of class gender orientation or race
a hug with no questions or conditions assigned
touch and caress and horizon to be realigned
skin upon skin mind for the rescue of sorrow
soft touch and a cuddle bow and an arrow
that reaches the target of gentle compassion
offering from the heart in unassuming fashion
hope conveyed and shared from one to the other
that reaches a friend spouse sibling or mother
those yet unbeknown and yet worthy of care
a treasure box and priceless gift out of nowhere
there are no boundaries limits or taxes to expend
no stamp in passports only warm affection to spend
goodwill and concern travels beyond any frontier
kindness does not mind if you are straight square or *****
the rewards are immeasurable the interest is huge
no trickery guise or deceit only healing and refuge
from a world engulfed in hatred anger and war
in which random endearment heals right from the core
09th June 2020
The forward-pointing fight of jolly time overflies.
And today blurs into a missing yesterday reprise.
The present blossom has dwindled and faded away,
Into a meager light reminiscence of yesterday.
Wildwood snuggles,
haystacks of sparkles,
yesterday struggles,
tomorrow marvels
It's sobering to discover a shattered soul in ruin.
The rage of this life was my deep eternal bane.
Heroic hearts provide a sense of timelessness.
Only to be misled after restoring to endlessness.
Wildwood snuggles,
haystacks of sparkles,
yesterday struggles,
tomorrow marvels
Unbeknown to the utterly ecstatic child.
On bestow, eternality on previous days riled.
He abused the promises devoted to himself that day.
As a result, auld enough, therefore a relentless journey.
A young sparrow meets a growing north wind.
His ambitions don't adapt to the pride designed.
And a terrible yet enlightening event arose.
Men envy the sunbird on the sky, tells the prose.
Wildwood snuggles,
Haystacks of sparkles,
yesterday struggles,
Tomorrow marvels.
Written: November 29, 2021
1st Place contest winner.
''Y'' Contest, New Poems - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
I’m writing this, so I’m not forgotten
Actions and intentions ebb, once the bones be rotten
I once planted an apple tree, to leave my mark
As tall as a house, still unbeknown, still my name in the dark
I once painted a painting and wrote a book
So I can get famous and find me a nook
Though I had talent, it wasn’t in my heart
Other talents I searched for, so I could stand apart
During this period, I discovered I could rhyme
A talent well hidden, but there all this time
Eternal is my pen, the quest for immortality my aim
Immortal be the victor, the champion of the game
I was here!!! I want it to be known throughout the ages
“He was extraordinary”, I wish to be written in the history pages
Once great kings, lie in their graves, many unknowns
Powerful men, who ruled from golden thrones
Nevertheless for those lucky and the few
Enshrined in history, I inspire to be one too
Here’s my challenge to future generations
Even after the coming and going of great powerful nations
My words will be read, and my name will resound
My voice will live on, it will never be drowned
Tapping into our neurons
where only brain cells should go
Past dreams mean nothing now
unconscious thoughts just flow
An abstract realm of reason
touchpad signals unbeknown
Fires up, post-human imagination
our intelligence genes regrown
And so it's all written in code
old commandments redrawn
Binary replaces ancient Latin
age of replicants has dawned
Interfaced with artificial reality
and engaged to usb clones
We marry terabyte processors
reproducing ten billion drones
Reprogrammed ancient scriptures
floods overwhelm our homes
Heaven and hell's using robots
I-God now accedes the throne
By
David Kavanagh
"Time drops all these moments as
decayed, spoiled riches.
And vibrating strings of light
dance the tip of Souls while
enjoying the orchestra
of all life!" -- E.P. Robles
--
[Too late; as late as it gets thought I.]
Upon this very late or very early
morning while i began to realize
i left my dreaming snoring then upon
a glint from parted curtains I was certain
a something queerly missing ~ or should
i say amiss.
There, upon the fabric of dusty thoughts
while peering out my window pane
i came to see a dastardly scene that
almost certainly brought me to my knees!
There upon the shrouded street
were many short blue-clothed things
busily erasing each moment as it passed.
Unbeknown that "i" was one between
the 'there' and 'here' they froze
all the while i stood and stared;
"Oh no oh no!" they screamed at me
squirming then churning they moved
and rebuilt the past you see
and found myself in bed again
and all ends well that begins
and all beginnings have always been
--endings are myth!
:: 04-20-2017 ::
As I turn to you once again my Lord
The anger burning a hole thru my heart
What must I do this time to be restored
Why must all of my love have to depart
For the devil to just leave me alone
Why his demons attacked was unbeknown
Praying you will relieve me of this pain
Since I'm now using all this hurt to hurt
My heart has now slowed weakened by the strain
Thick skin keeps my soul totally inert
While the undeserved pain turns into sin
I'm left to battle the demons within
My trust assures God will be by my side
Offering his warm embrace full of love
And the strength that's needed he shall provide
To win my war and reach Heaven above
7/4/2017
Your footsteps might disappear after a while
Your voice might go silent at times
Your needs will not be visible to others
Unless you voice them
Not everyone has the gift of reading between the lines
Not everyone listens to the gentle nudge life gives them
Unbeknown to others you might struggle
Your heartbeat might have gone faint
Your zest for life crippled
In those moments
Your maker has you under His wings
He is your protector
He might send a stranger your way
Or a long forgotten friend might look for you again
Not intentionally
But because He worked behind the veil
He knew you wouldn't get it if he sends a known entity
That's why he chose the people or things
You are not familiar with
Don't cringe at His choice
Embrace the comfort or joy they bring
©154316042015